


Let the Rain Fall

by SmileDesu



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Family Loss, Gen, M/M, Mourning, Personal Experience, Rain, Regret, past deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileDesu/pseuds/SmileDesu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems like things have been put to rest, but there’s still one person Billy has to face - the very same person he tried to bring back. V2 setting between issues 13-14</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Rain Fall

The weather was anything but welcoming. It had been raining for days, and despite forecasts didn't seem to be letting up any time soon. For one young man staring up at the dark sky from inside his magical anti-rain bubble, it was the perfect setting, and a fitting mood-setter for the conclusion of the months-long quest he and his friends just conquered. Dark and depressing with the promise of sunshine that never came true. Aptly morbid, Billy thought and made his way through the Memorial Garden of Avengers Mansion. He made his rounds, paying his respects and spelling whatever dirt or wear he could away from the monuments. It's been a long time since he's last been there, he justified inwardly. He should take the long route. He's not stalling, he told himself as he finally reached the before-last statue and stayed there. No, not stalling, he knew and took a deep breath - it's bracing for impact. One hand in his pocket and another clenched at his side, he finally arrived at the last stop on his journey, standing before the statutes of two he actually knew and had the privilege to call 'friends'.  
  
"Hi, Cassie. Jonas."  
  
The statues stood tall and still next to Scott Lang's yet standing monument. They looked impressive, heroic and majestic, and almost foreign. For a moment he wondered if that's what they all looked like to the casual onlooker, in fact, and he simply preferred to remember the awkward well-meaning robot and the clumsy, energetic girl better. Those _were_ the fonder memories, he concluded and let a cautious smile rise to his lips. He lowered his gaze then, both fists clenched in his pockets.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it _has_ been a while, I know. We've been caught up in some pretty crazy things... yes, even for _us_ , take my word for it." He snickered, a hollow, tired sound. "We're back now, though. Hope the pigeons weren't too mean in the meanwhile."  
He actually looked up, almost as though expecting a reply, and then he realized that he _was_ , and had to cope with the disappointment of receiving no such a thing.  
  
"...yeah."  
Billy dropped the carefree attitude at last. He sat down on the statue at their feet, his magic keeping him dry still. He hunched forward for a while before finally leaning back, back meeting Cassie's leg.  
  
"I'm _'back_ ' now, sort of. Not... _here_ , but... you know. Still running with training wheels... or flying, in my case... but I'm getting there. Step by step... so I'd appreciate it if you kept any 'I told you so's to yourselves. I'm getting enough of those already."  
He managed a small chuckle that wasn't at all sincere before closing his eyes, head resting back against the polished rock. He remained unmoving until he felt water soaking into his hair, a moist chill that made him shake his head and reinforce the spell as he ran a hand through his hair. The movement made him feel no longer comfortable, the statues' ominous presence towering over him. He was loath to move still, however, knowing he was not yet done. In fact, compared to his true objectives, even this painful reunion of-sorts was but a blissful intermission.  
  
"Sorry, Cass." Billy said at last and pushed himself up, though he still held himself back, reluctant to let go. "But you're not the only ones I came to see today."  
  
He gripped the edge of the podium, eyes set on the muddy ground and teeth digging into his lower lip. He finally let out a resigned sigh and, deflated, slumped down, crouching with his back to the statue's memorial plaque. He reached down between his legs, grabbing a handful of mud only to stare at it. He mashed it between his fingers, saw it smear over his skin, some of it fall back to the ground. If only there was another way, he thought but knew better as he tightened both hands around the moist earth. There was no better way to connect with one whose ashes they scattered.  
  
"Mrs. Altman." He gasped out, voice hoarse, unsteady. That's not what he really wanted to say, however, and no amount of attempts at forced small-talk managed to delay the inevitable  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
He shut his eyes, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.  
"I'm sorry I couldn't bring you back." He admitted between labored breaths that he kept from being choked sobs through sheer force of will. "I'm sorry I even _tried_. It did nothing but hurt everyone involved."  
He looked down at his hands, clutching the mud so tightly it began squeezing between his fingers.  
"They said Loki- yeah, _that_ Loki- that he had a hand in that, too, that he plotted that far in advance... it makes sense, it does, but..."  
He looked away, teeth clenched. Pain was the dominant factor in his expression alongside anger, mostly at himself. Then a flash of blame and accusation crossed his face, only to fade away like his protective spell did, letting the rain wash resolution and a sober kind of sadness over him.  
  
"I wanted to do something for him, to try and do right by him... Loki just gave me a push, that's all. Not like I ever made the best calls, anyway."  
He glanced briefly over his shoulder, not minding that his bangs fell heavily over his eyes. He knew what was right behind him, anyway.  
"But..." The word left his lips and drew his attention forward again. "But all I did was hurt him more. The look on his face when he realized that wasn't you..." He inhaled sharply, the memory making something sink inside him. The worse thing was that he knew that wasn't the first time he hurt Teddy so - the one person that mattered the most to him.  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't treat him better." Came the next apology. Billy sniffled loudly and reached to wipe his face with the back of his hand, a clumsy act as he still held onto the mud. "He felt like he couldn't talk to me, like I wouldn't understand, or that I'll break so easily... I should've been there for him, I--" He trailed off, feeling disgust rising inside him along with frustration and helplessness, a weakness he knew all too well. "I wish I could've been there for him." And not only stare back through the reflection in the window.  
  
"But that's spilled milk, right? Not much I can do about that now. Moving forward, I can only strive to do better. Be there for him, let him be there for me. Trust him to help me and be worthy of his trust in return. If I can't do that, I mean..."  
He finally opened his hands, the mud clinging unevenly to his palms. "He has so little left--"  
  
His voice cracked again, his fists clenching, this time apart. A memory surfaced, one older than most that have been inflicting him, almost three years old and still bleeding. A memory of pained cries and panic and despair and the smell of smoke and burning flesh. Of wish granting powers that refused him. A memory of his greatest failure.  
  
" _Because I couldn't save you!_ " His voice rose, ending in an unsteady shout. He pressed his fists to his face, teeth gritted. He cared not about the mud he was smearing over himself. "Because I wasn't strong enough, or good enough... I let you slip away, I let you _die_ \-- _What the hell is all this Demiurge crap good for, anyway_?!"  
He slammed his fists into the ground, splashing mud and dirty water. He didn't care.  
"It'd be so easy to try again. Bring you back this time..." His face twisted into a bitter snarl as he leaned back, sitting on his ankles and not caring his pants were soaked with water and mud. "But it'll probably backfire again. If _I_ don't mess it up, some parasite or _God of Mischief_ would. And if not, then..."  
The bitterness was washed away as the rain began falling more heavily. There was shame in its place, and the oddest feeling, one Billy could only identify as greed.  
"Then there'd still be a price. It's never really that simple, I know that now. And I- I'm sorry, but I can't help but be selfish. Because I don't know what I'll do if the price is _him_. And if the price is _me_ , I'd hate putting him through it. I'm sorry, but... I'm not even going to try. You understand, though, don't you? Better the devil we know, the pain we're used to..." It still hurt, and he knew it would hurt until the day they died, each shouldering their own burden, their own demons regarding the matter. But he also knew neither was going to let the other go through it alone.  
  
"I'll be there for him, I promise. I'm better- getting there, at least, so I can-" He trailed off, but this time in favor of a thought that made him actually smile. "I can prove to him and everyone else that he didn't make a mistake deciding to stay with me... _twice_."  
  
He looked down, eyes following the rain as it washed the mud off his hands. It carried it back to the ground, leaving him feeling oddly lighter even though his clothes were already soaked.  
  
"You don't have to worry, is what I think I'm trying to say. I'll look after him for the both of us. I _swear_."  
  
And he meant it with every fiber of his being. Perhaps it was for that reason he thought he saw what he saw when the next lightning flashed, illuminating the world in an unearthly light. It was no longer than a blink but he saw her, standing next to him, just as he remembered her. Beautiful, elegant, maternal. And yet despite all latest recollections of both imposter and real person her face wore a different expression. It was no evil snarl nor a concerned frown, it was a smile, warm, tired, and grateful. And when the thunder came, Billy could've sworn he heard her one last time, a distant echo in the dark, thanking him. He shut his eyes tightly, determined to let that image etch itself into his mind, a fonder image to look back on, to keep with him on his way.

**Author's Note:**

> In memory of my father who passed away three years ago.


End file.
